


Loneliest

by ravenhowlett



Series: Goosebumps [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Loneliness, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:07:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29857161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenhowlett/pseuds/ravenhowlett
Summary: When he comes home he will hold Padmé and they'll rut against each other, desperate for release and hungry for the feeling of skin on skin.
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Series: Goosebumps [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2190039
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	Loneliest

**Author's Note:**

> que??? me?? posting more than 1 work in the span of a few days???? this has actually been sitting in my drafts finished and waiting to be uploaded for months but i was having a hard time figuring out how Stellar would end. i hope u guys like this one. it's short and sweet :-)

When Anakin is on the front with nothing but his lightsaber in his hand all he can think of is that he has to live to the end of the day so he can come back out and do this all over again the next day. He has to run and fight and maim and kill so he can survive the war and come back to Padmé. 

When he is on a star destroyer with nothing but a ration bar in his hand all he can think of is that he has to choke it down with enough water so Obi-Wan will be satisfied that he ate that day. He has to refuel to keep going, much like their ships as Ahsoka pointed out earlier. 

When he is in his bunk with nothing but his dick in his hand, all he can think of is Padmé. He has to go slow to savor his thoughts of her or else he'll feel like he's wasting them. The way she had given herself to him all those months ago in the senate building, a quivering and crying mess with his release dripping between her thighs. What a pretty picture she had painted, a pretty picture Anakin would call forth on lonely nights like these. She commands such power as a senator, influencing others and always having the last word, and yet she relinquished her power that time, allowing Anakin total control over her for an entire weekend, bending her to his will over every surface in her home, always pushing her to the brink but never letting her fall. She'd been nervous about returning to work because she knew Anakin wasn't finished with her, that he planned to ruin her right there in that meeting hall. When he had finally let her come her ecstasy was so vibrant in the Force Anakin would have sworn she was a skilled Knight sharing her passion with him. 

On some nights it's not even the erotic imagery of his wife discreetly saved on a small data chip he keeps in his pack that brings him comfort. It's the image in his mind's eye; the way the afternoon sun glares through the terrace and illuminates her from behind, her brown hair glowing auburn in a romantic curl around her shoulders. Her skin fresh and free of makeup allowing her freckles to stand out. Her bitten pink lips full and soft and kissable. It's the way she watches him in one moment like he is the best thing that ever happened to her, and in the next like she is going to eat him whole and raw and unyielding. 

He can feel his pulse in his hand as he strokes himself lazily; quick and fluttery like he's a nineteen year old virgin on his wedding night all over again. His fingers and palm are calloused from gripping his lightsaber and the texture feeds him different sensations whenever he twists his hand this way or that. 

When he comes home he will hold Padmé and they'll rut against each other, desperate for release and hungry for the feeling of skin on skin. 

Anakin wonders if she thinks of him at night, if she spends her lonely nights laid out on her luxurious bedspread with her fingers or a toy deep inside her, flicking her wrist a bit for a better angle or turning the vibrations lower to stave off the pleasure for just a minute longer. He wonders if she's trembling right now halfway across the galaxy the same way he is, sweating and whining and muffling his mouth into the flesh of his shoulder as he pulls his hand away from his aching dick. It's nights like these when his thoughts of Padmé are the most vivid when he feels his loneliest. All he can do is allow his image of her to soothe his aches and pains.

He licks his palm a couple times and then starts again. His toes curl in his boots as his pace quickens, his right hand grips tight into the fibers of his bed roll in his bunk, his breath comes out in small gasping puffs of air that warm up the small room quickly, fogging the viewport. With one final pass of his thumb over the sensitive head he finally drops into oblivion, his teeth clack together as he silences a shout before it escapes his throat. His whole body burns like the rays of binary suns are shooting out of every pore. 

With the last aftershock wringing through his body he sags into his bed roll, relaxing his tense shoulders and letting go of his softening dick before he's oversensitive. He looks down to see the spray of his release, marked across his chest and collarbones. If Padmé was here she'd lick him clean.

When he sits up to clean himself he aches in a different way. His ribs hurt from being squeezed between a wall and a hundred pounds of battle droid debris, his knees hurt from running to catch up to their evac shuttle. Worst of all his throat burns from the unshed tears he's been holding back for weeks now. Being away from Padmé for months at a time grates at his heart, twists it in his chest until he's forced to bear through it and pull himself together, not just for himself but for his men, for the galaxy, for her. If he can just hold on and keep fighting long enough he can live to see her in a holocall. And if he can live through knowing that he can't even touch her yet, that the holocall has to be enough to sustain him then he can push through that and make it home to her. 

But for now, his fleeting thoughts of her and the warmth of his own hand are enough to lull him to a fitful sleep as he watches the stars flit past in hyperspace. 

They have to be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> poor anakin is having a ~hard~ time without padmé :-(


End file.
